


between one star and the next

by kirinokisu



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-07-20 09:05:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16134071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirinokisu/pseuds/kirinokisu
Summary: Collection of sheith prompts and requests, too short or ridiculous to be posted on their own.3. Passionate kissShiro is stuck at the airport, and Keith's unwillingness to unpack knows no bounds. Or maybe they're just that in love.





	1. Spiderman kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> >   
>  _1\. Spiderman kiss_
>> 
>> _Ever since joining Voltron, Pidge had learned the hard way not to let her curiosity question certain things. So when she walked into the lounge that day and saw Keith hanging upside down from the ceiling, she simply asked, "How's it going?"_   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [xladysaya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xladysaya/pseuds/xladysaya), who's amazing and I love her and anyone who's into kurotsuki should most definitely check out her fics.
> 
> Canon compliant, post S7, some very mild spoilers

Pidge was a curious girl. Came with being a tech geek, primarily. Or maybe from growing up with Matt and having a genius scientist for a dad.

Point is, she was constantly curious, hungry for knowledge.

But ever since she'd joined the paladins of Voltron, she learned the hard way that certain things were better left unknown. Not so much for her sanity but rather, unexpectedly, her purity of mind. Or whatever was left of it, after having witnessed things like floating arms resting on other people's thighs under the table during meetings in the boardroom.

Which is why upon seeing Keith hanging upside down from the ceiling in what was their new lounge aboard IGF Atlas, she merely asked  "How's it going?" and casually poured herself another cup of coffee. 

Hot, black and strong. 

One of the things she really, really missed in space. Particularly during those all-day and all-night long stretches in the lab, such as the one she was currently in the middle of; after the fight with Sendak and Shiro's apparent need for an even bigger, more badass space robot which—totally understandable, there was a lot to figure out about the whole ship-into-robot thing. The insides of the Altean-human hybrid made Pidge want to squeal in delight. Which she might have done. Just a time or two. When no one was listening.

Robots were so freaking cool.

Still, she paused, sipping at her coffee. It was only part her cursed curiosity. Rest was all concern because Keith was starting to look really, really red in the face. Almost like his old jacket that was notably missing now, swapped for his Blade of Marmora suit.

_ Weird. _

At least he wasn't shirtless this time. Pidge took her blessings and victories whenever she could, no matter how small.

"I feel like I'm going to regret asking but why are you upside down and should you really be doing it?"

Feet still planted firmly on the glossy white surface, right next to a neat row of overhead light fixtures, Keith crossed his arms. Probably to preserve whatever dignity he had left. Which wasn't much, all things considered. "I'm testing my new suit."

Pidge eyed him even more sceptically. "By walking on the cei—oh. Oh! So that's what the new addition the Blades members were talking about at breakfast! How does it work? Is it magnets? Can I see? Please come down so I can dissect it." 

She could already see it, all the intricate details Slav's work was so famous for. And there was no doubt it was Slav's because the Blades of Marmora table in the mess hall had also descended into companionable silence once someone had carelessly mentioned the engineer's name.

"Pidge."

"Do you think we could add it to our paladin suits? It might be useful. Remember that time—"

"Pidge!"

When Keith barked, everyone listened. Apparently even in situations such as this one, which were delightfully increasing in number now that they were back on Earth. "What?" she asked. Some people just didn't understand the beauty of inventions.

Suspiciously, Keith hesitated to continue. Thought about it for a minute. Then, resigned, with a heavy sigh, muttered under his breath, "That's the thing, I  _ can't _ get down. I'm... stuck."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"It's the boots." He gestured angrily at the sleek black soles. "Apparently my feet are not galra enough to deactivate them." Then his face turned even darker. "That, or Slav really messed up and I'm going to kill him."

Pidge tried to reel in her smirk, she really did. "Think you can reach him all the way from there?"

"Not funny."

"On the contrary. Our fearless leader, defeated by his own suit. So very, very publicly."

Keith said nothing, probably sulking. Pidge almost felt sorry for him, but then remembered that time Kosmo teleported his half-naked, freshly-out-of-shower, tired-after-a-mission self onto Shiro's lap during their Monsters & Mana session. Lance's screech still sometimes rang loudly in her ears.

"How long have you been like this?"

"A while. " Then, softer, as if ashamed. "...can you help me? I've tried everything and nothing's worked. Obviously."

It was unfair, how gently mushy she went at the mere sound of Keith asking for help. Topped with the look of sheer misery on his face? She put down her coffee and forgot all about her tiny revenge.

Then realised they had a problem.

"The ceiling's too high." She could probably find a ladder, if she tried hard enough, but that came with a risk of attracting attention—Garrison may be in a state of rebuilding itself, but the green paladin helped physically only in her lion. 

"Kosmo?"

Keith shook his head. "Mom took him to train new recruits. Something about making them suffer."

Which left only one option. The most effective one. She was genius, after all. "Hold on! I'll be right back."

She was almost out of the door when she remembered the stack of post-its the MFE squad always kept on the mini-fridge, back-pedalled to it, scrawled a hasty "Major green goo accident. Do not enter if that's not the death you imagined for yourself." and plastered it on the door after it closed behind her.

 

-

 

It took her less than five minutes to find what she needed.

 

-

 

"Shiro," Keith said, somehow both relieved and embarrassed.

Pidge had filled him in on their way back, but even if she hadn't, Shiro's "Keith" would've probably still made her want to exit the lounge fast. Instead, she downed the rest of her now cold coffee. It brought her less comfort than usual.

"According to my calculations, Shiro's arm should be able to reach—nevermind, he's already on it. And I'm apparently talking to myself. Carry on, then. Don't worry about tiny lil me."

Indeed, Shiro was already at Keith's side—or under him, as it were—reaching up with both arms, even though all his human one could touch was Keith's right hand. Which apparently had been the point.  _ Of course _ they had to hold hands, how silly of her to think otherwise.

The Altean one ventured higher, to what Pidge figured were the fastenings attaching the footwear to the suit itself—and she really, really didn't want to think about Shiro's apparently vast knowledge on how to strip Keith so quickly and efficiently. Because not a moment later, one socketed foot finally slipped out and Keith let out an actual moan as he wiggled it, shaking off the numbness.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Shiro said apologetically. His hand gave the back of Keith's knee a gentle squeeze, as if promising to make it better later.

Mournfully, Pidge looked at the piece still stuck to the ceiling. Wondering if she should procure a ladder after all.

If Pidge hadn't looked away, she would've noticed the mirthful grin stretching slowly across Shiro's face. The narrowed look Keith gave it. The softest, "Hey there."

But she had looked away, and when she finally lowered her head back from one thing she refused not to get out of this, suddenly alarmed by the silence, she was greeted by the sight of Shiro's arm still holding Keith up by one leg, albeit lower than before. Low enough for Shiro to kiss him, upside down and all.

Pidge should've known better. She really, really should have.

Still.

She may not be able to ever unsee the true nature of Earth's most powerful couple, but she could make sure everyone else got to see it too.

The sound of a camera shutter did alarm the two of them to what was happening, but Pidge had pressed send long before they actually processed it.

A second later, she got a message from Matt.

_ > Good job, sis. You make me so proud. _


	2. Star crossed lovers kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> >   
>  _2\. Star crossed lovers kiss_
>> 
>> _If Shiro believed in fate, he would've thought this moment was it—the moment when he, still ignorant and unchanged, turned to look at the newcomer. And promptly choked on his next shot of tequila._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [Ness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BnessZ), who probably deserved angst but got this instead. In my defence, I was originally gonna do altean!Shiro and galra!Keith. Things just didn't go as planned, obviously.
> 
> Modern AU, no spoilers

The met at some hole in the wall bar on the outskirts of town.

Shiro wasn't sure how he'd ended there—he was already on his third shot of tequila when Keith slided onto the barstool next to his. Not that Shiro knew his name just yet then.

(That happened after his life took a sudden sharp turn from stressed, exhausted and overworked into horny and smitten and not at all drunk anymore.)

If Shiro believed in fate, he would've thought this moment was it—the moment when he, still ignorant and unchanged, turned to look at the newcomer. And promptly choked on his next shot, eyes burning and lungs desperate for air; both factors strangely irrelevant. 

He'd never seen a man more beautiful. And had no complaints about dying looking at him.

Except maybe not being able to kiss away the frown that suddenly marred that perfect, perfect face—pale and delicate and otherworldly with those big dark eyes staring at Shiro with open concern. "You okay?"

Shiro wanted,  _ needed _ . Desperately. Just once. "S-sorry?"

"You kinda," the gorgeous stranger gestured broadly with his hands, bringing long dainty-looking fingers to the centre Shiro's undivided attention, "froze there. For a second. A very long second. And your drink is… well."

It took Shiro an embarrassing moment to understand what he meant, even though he hadn't missed a single movement of those soft, such pliant-looking lips. "I uh—you—I mean—Hi, I'm Shiro. And I don't normally do this."

Even through the haze clouding his mind, Shiro realised how that sounded. He winced.

The stranger laughed, causing heat to rush to Shiro's cheeks only he didn't care because his heart was beating twice as fast and loud as it did normally. "You mean spill cheap tequila all over the counter in a bar where the owner can and will have your head for it?"

Shiro paled, looking hastily around for a napkin to wipe up the sticky mess. "Oh shit."

"It's mahogany, apparently. Only memory of glory days long gone, or some other bullshit no one really cares about."

In Shiro's defence, it was hard to pay attention to anything else when that voice was speaking, just to him. He could imagine it—with a cough, he interrupted his own thought, and said instead, "You come here often?"

The stranger blinked. Blinked again. His eyes really were something else. "Did you just use the most cliche pick-up line on me?"

Shiro forced himself to think, backtrack in the conversation. Wished he hadn't a moment later.  _ Oh God. _

"I'm so sorry! I really, really didn't because you deserve so much better than that. I mean I would've, but I didn't. Hit on you, that is. You just seemed to know a lot about this place and well…" he trailed off awkwardly. Wondering how much more he could fuck this up. 

Maybe his friends had a point. Maybe he was a disaster when it came to these things.

It was a miracle that the stranger didn't just up and leave. And surely it was just the terrible lighting and Shiro's drunk mind playing tricks on him, but he looked almost… shy. Adorable. Suddenly younger. As if whatever layer he wore on top had been stripped by Shiro's failure to communicate. "Oh," he said.

Shiro's throat went dry. One kind of need replacing another, the more dangerous kind.

"I'm Keith, by the way."

Dazedly, disbelievingly, Shiro nodded. Shook the offered hand. He didn't know it then, but that was the moment his fate had been sealed.

 

-

 

In the following hours, from dusk till dawn, Shiro learned so much more than just a name: Keith liked fast, expensive motorcycles but hated all types of cars. Had a sweet tooth when it came to alcoholic drinks only and knew the best places to get cheap but incredibly tasty, perfectly crusty, extra cheesy pizza. He lived with a dozen of uncles none of whom were blood related to him or each other and had no parents. His eyes were the strangest combination of blue and grey that looked purple in certain light. His hair was as soft as it looked, his lips as talented as the rest of him. His hands burned like fire against bare skin.

And when he smiled, Shiro felt like he could defeat monsters just to keep it.

Instead, he kissed it with all the passion he had in his heart.

 

\- 

 

In the morning, Shiro woke up alone. With a raging hangover and whispers of what had felt like a dream, beautiful and far away. He smiled at the bright red hickeys collaring his neck, the angry bite mark on the inside of his thigh. Hoped he had left as much of a mark.

_ Not a dream then. But just as bittersweet. _

Dressed still only in his pajama pants, he padded barefoot into the kitchen and only after a hot cup of extra sugary Earl Grey with a slice of lemon did he feel strong enough to address the blinking light on his answering machine.

"Shiro? It's Sam. The client called. They want you. Call me when you get this. And congratulations!"

He supposed Sam was right—congratulations were in order. It was one of their new clients, but biggest yet to date. Dangerous, based on the pay rate alone. But there was something extra satisfactory about being picked from the best of the best. And he owed this to Sam, who had believed in Shiro when no one else did.

So Shiro took a cold, sobering shower, picked the most professional suit from an entire closet full of them, and let Matt drive him to his next assignment. 

Which turned out to be at a modern mansion bigger than their entire office downtown, exactly like Shiro expected it to be. The butler met them in the driveway, showed Matt where to park the car, then led them both down the curvy gravel path lined with neatly trimmed grass.

Inside, they were met by Kolivan himself, in a spacious office with sleek furniture and big abstract art pieces on the walls. Shiro had met the man only once before, during his interview a week prior; he had been just as intimidating then as he was now. The man next to him introduced himself as Thace. He and Matt took care of the paperwork, while Kolivan's face kept darkening.

Thace noticed it too, looking up from the stack of contracts. "Relax, he's just a little late. Probably fell asleep in the shower. It wouldn't be the first time."

"He's five whole minutes late. It's impolite."

"Not if only you are counting."

"You spoil him too much."

"So do you. You just don't like to show it." The easy, completely unbothered smile Thace gave his—boss? friend? lover? Shiro would have to investigate that later—made Matt quirk an eyebrow. The impression they'd gotten from Kolivan when he had come to their firm had been anything but that of a doting whoever to whomever. 

The answer came with a loud bang of double doors opening, and a voice saying, "I know, I know. I'm late. I'm sorry. But in my defense, I told you I don't need a damn—"

Keith strode into the room like it was an everyday occurrence. Paused, gawking, when he noticed Shiro raise up from the uncomfortable white leather sofa.

Thace wove a friendly arm around Shiro's shoulders, nudging him forward. "Keith! Just in time. This is Shiro, your new bodyguard. Say hi."

_ Well fuck. _

  
  



	3. Passionate kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> >   
>  _3\. Passionate kiss_
>> 
>> _Shiro is stuck at the airport, and Keith's unwillingness to unpack knows no bounds. Or maybe they're just that in love._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [Wilma](https://twitter.com/Wilmandra). Sorry it took me so long! My mind kept going blank at this prompt lol 
> 
> Modern AU, plotless fluff, all inaccuracies courtesy of google images and google maps

In all his twenty-eight years of life, Shiro had never been one to curse. Not in the heat of the moment. Not when he burned his first but certainly not last attempt at homemade date night dinner. Not even that time Lance had said something thoughtless and harmless, and Keith had actually punched him because Keith didn't know how not to protect Shiro.

But standing in the middle of the busy Logan Airport, glaring at the departures display, Shiro strongly felt the urge to do just that. Loudly and with feeling.

 _We're deeply sorry but all flights to Philadelphia have been cancelled until tomorrow due to weather conditions_ , the smiling woman at the counter had said politely, unfazed by the hopeful look on Shiro's face.

 _It isn't that big of a deal_ , he told himself. Believed it even, somewhere deep, deep inside, under the thick impenetrable layer of despair that was slowly taking hold of him. _It would just be just one more night. Not a big deal at all._

Except, it kind of was.

When Shiro had left for this trip, he'd made promises it would be for three days and four nights only. It had earned him an exasperated, fond laugh and a soft goodbye kiss, followed by amused, "I'll be fine, you know. I'm not _that_ hopeless." To which Shiro had replied that he himself just might be, but hadn't resisted when strong hands pushed him out the front door. He had managed to steal another kiss though, heavier and longer. One that was supposed to get him through the unexpected work trip.

That had been almost two full weeks ago.

Because the client the deal with whom had been all but signed suddenly decided the price they settled upon wasn't acceptable after all. And what if someone else made a better offer? Shiro had been strongly tempted to find the fool who gave him that particular idea. Everyone _knew_ Altea Corp was first and foremost fair.

And so, they negotiated. And negotiated. Day after day, meeting after meeting. Allura's resolve to bring the man to his knees and the deal home growing stronger every day.

It was somehow comforting to learn her patience wasn't endless after all. Shiro could certainly sympathise.

"We're going to get that guy," she'd said at the end of week one, slamming a tumbler of scotch on the table with enough force to alert everyone else in the classy hotel bar downstairs. "We're not leaving until he's ours."

And they did get the guy. The contract signed by all parties just a few hours ago.

Shiro had never packed his carry-on faster, even if it meant missing the celebratory drinks with his team. Who, aware of the reason why, thankfully understood. Alfor just patted him on the back, and with a good-natured, deal-gone-right laugh told him to take a few days off. "Go home, son. You deserve to rest." He'd even called a cab for him while Shiro wasn't looking.

Shiro felt only a little bad and swore to himself that he would pay this generosity back, as soon as he got back to the office on Wednesday.

Because he definitely wasn't strong enough to refuse the gift of spending a few days home. And it was home, now that Keith was finally living there too.

The thought sent a wave of emotion down his system, crashing against the brewing storm of frustration.

Keith. In _their_ home.

All alone, while Shiro was stuck here, hundreds of miles away.

Fiercely independent, beautiful Keith. Who took months, years to open up to Shiro, little bit by little bit. And even now, with both of them agreeing that this was _it_ , Keith remained an unknown, a mystery—while simultaneously being the most known person to Shiro, the most trusted and sure.

Two weeks should've been nothing. They weren't madly-in-love teenagers. They could miss each other and still enjoy the time apart.

And yet.

It had just been Shiro's luck that the weekend he left on the trip coincided with the weekend Keith was to move in, the lease on his old apartment finally ending. Shiro's bag had been packed on top of boxes still holding most of Keith's belongings.

Fondly, he wondered if Keith made progress on unpacking any of them, or if he'd decided to wait for Shiro, like he'd jokingly threatened to.

If Shiro even made it home sometime this month. At least he wasn't missing any birthdays or anniversaries.

Still.

He contemplated his options: the snow storm had come rampant and unexpected, catching the east coast completely unaware. No airline could guarantee any flights tomorrow either. The logical thing would be to go back to the hotel, spend the night in safety and comfort, then assess the situation again in the morning.

Shiro has never been particularly logical when it came to Keith.

Armed with two extra large cups of extra strong tea and a bag of mixed nuts, Shiro found an empty seat next to an array of plugged power sockets. The teenage girl sitting next to him smiled sympathetically in understanding.

With a sigh, Shiro fished out his phone and dialed the number he knew by heart. "Hey, baby," he said softly, tiredly. "I don't think I can make it home tonight either."

It was going to be a long, long night.

-

He ran out of tea about two hours in, but didn't think he could stomach any more of it anyway. The nuts were long gone too, with only raisins left at the bottom of the bag, reminding Shiro once again of Keith, because he was the one to usually eat them.

The laptop battery lasted a little longer. But by then, most people had either seen the news or had given up hope—the once crowded airport appeared eerily empty in comparison now. Only those truly desperate to get home camping for the night on uncomfortable chairs and drinking their weight in caffeine.

Shiro plugged in the charger and tried to catch up on work, going over contracts and answering emails that have been piling in his inbox. It was tedious work, but it kept his mind successfully occupied.

Until the black-on-white words started to blur and not even his willpower could convince his eyes to stay open.

-

Shiro startled awake at the sound of his phone ringing loudly in his ear. "Keith?" he slurred in sleepy confusion, the device almost slipping from his hands. Twice.

"Where are you?"

He had to blink at that. "Still in Boston, at the airport." One look around confirmed that it was still the same night, now pitch-black behind the floor-to-ceiling windows. He must've nodded off for a few hours, then. The snow seemed to rage with renewed ferocity, and Shiro shivered in his coat. "I might be for a while. Did something happen?"

Keith sighed in unmistakable relief. "No, no, everything's fine. More than fine. Can you come outside?"

"What?"

"Actually, hold on." The words were followed by a muted rustling sound, then a loud bang of a car door.

"Keith?" Shiro asked tentatively. Maybe he was still dreaming. Maybe his brain was just that tired.

He heard a sudden howl of wind in the receiver. A rush of footsteps. Then Keith's voice again, strangely out of breath. "Where exactly at the airport?"

"Next to the check-in desks, closest to the exit. Keith? What's going on?"

"Be right there." And the line went silent.

Dumbly, Shiro stared at his phone. At the picture of him and Keith wearing tacky angel and demon costumes last Halloween, on a very Lance dare. The clock read 4.23. The departures display still an angry red array of CANCELLED.

And standing next to it, looking around frantically—

Shiro was _definitely_ dreaming.

There could be no other explanation as to why Keith, dressed in a long puffer jacket two sizes too big, covered from head to toe in quickly melting snow, would be standing right there. In the middle of a sleeping airport. Like he was real.

 _He hates that jacket,_ Shiro thought dazedly. _Makes fun of me wearing it constantly._

On shaky legs, he stood up. And saw the exact moment Keith's eyes finally found him.

He couldn't move. Couldn't _breathe_ as he watched Keith approach, seemingly calm. Except for the minute shaking in his hands, visible only when he stood right in front of Shiro, only few inches separating them from each other.

"What are you doing here?" Shiro whispered.

"I drove here," Keith said like it was the most natural thing.

"You drove here. In the storm. For hours."

Keith shrugged, smiled. "Sorry I took your car." Then, "I missed you. And I figured you would be here."

Shiro couldn't help it—he laughed. Still dazed, always amazed by the impossibility that was Keith. "Do you know how much I love you?"

Cheeks pink, smile contagious, Keith reached for Shiro. "I do." His icy cold hands wound around Shiro's neck, tender and sure. His warm breath ghosting over Shiro's lips as he raised on his tiptoes. "But you could remind me."

It was, perhaps, the most cliche thing they've ever done.

But Shiro didn't care. After days, weeks of missing him, missing _them_ , he finally had Keith right there, in his arms. Real and perfect and impossibly cute.

Shiro captured his mouth in a surge, pouring every bit of love into a single kiss. Bursting with warmth. Keith moaned shamelessly, low in his throat, lips parting, inviting. His sagging weight trembling against Shiro's chest. Hands wandering and greedy. Like he too couldn't quite have enough. Like nothing else mattered in that moment. And when Shiro sucked on his tongue, he felt Keith's knees buckle. His hips rock forward, just a little.

"I took a few days off," Keith murmured when they pulled apart, gasping. Only enough to be able to speak. "We could have a mini-vacation. Find a hotel, stay in. Order room service. Not leave the bed."

Shiro's body heated in response. "Mmm," he mouthed in agreement against Keith's jawbone. Placing open-mouthed kisses down that beautiful jawline. "And avoid unpacking for a few more days?"

  
Keith gave him a look, hard as it was with his neck tilted to accommodate Shiro's mouth. "I could be all done, for all you know."

"I know _you_."

"So what do you say?"

Almost giddy, Shiro imagined the next couple of days, imagined being sated and warm under the covers of a luxurious hotel bed. With Keith sprawled on top of him like an octopus. Sleep-lazy and pliant.

"Lead the way."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos always appreciated. I can also be found screaming about sheith and fics on [twitter](https://twitter.com/kirinokisu).


End file.
